


Return Stroke

by missingcadaver



Category: Gaya Sa Pelikula (Web Series)
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Violence related to homophobia, mentions of divorce, use of alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27953288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missingcadaver/pseuds/missingcadaver
Summary: Jose Vladimir Austria is the silver streak amidst his grays and blues. Or alternatively, the story of how Karl Frederick Almasen falls in love and how he grows along the way.
Relationships: Karl Frederick Almasen/Jose Vladimir Austria
Comments: 9
Kudos: 45





	Return Stroke

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is a fanfiction of the BL series "Gaya sa Pelikula (Like in the Movies)."
> 
> This story is very dear to me and I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> :)

Jose Vladimir Austria is more than just a spark.

He is an electric charge which connected, proliferated and bloomed to life like braids of moments strewn across the skyline—a blinding bolt of disturbance to Karl Frederick Almasen's relatively peaceful existence.

It starts when 18-year-old Karl meets a 19-year-old boy. Karl is in his second year as a Journalism student when he sees for the first time the older guy singing on stage. Jose Vladimir Austria, third year Communication Arts student, is handsome with an air of arrogance that suits his strong jaw and bright, hooded eyes.

Karl decides to apply for the university theater guild shortly after and gets accepted as an apprentice of Vlad, nonetheless.

Somewhere along the way, Karl wakes up with his head comfortably resting against the shoulder of a sleeping Vlad and it's a breathtaking view that stays with him through the years.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

_A year._

They bump into each other during practices and Vlad, sexy with sweat soaking through the fabric of his white shirt, grins at him with a mumbled apology. Vlad always leaves Karl staring for a second too long until he catches himself breathless and heart beating a little too fast that Karl knows is not from dancing for hours but from something unfamiliar and treacherous.

It's unfair, really, how Vlad is still able to grin and laugh like his voice just didn't crack in practice earlier. Or that he didn't just mess up the stage blocking. It's terribly unfair how Vlad beams at him when Karl successfully nails his part of the choreography for the musical. He almost misses a step and Karl berates himself for being distracted by the smile but he cannot quite bring himself to look away. Karl smiles back and unknowingly carries the same smile until he tucks himself to bed.

He does not know what it is. No, not quite, because Karl is still stuck in the shoreline. At times, he wants to let go, to let the waves pull him to the abyss. But waves move to and fro and before he knows it, he's already washed ashore, thrown back a little too far, reeled into the reality of circumstances.

It gets tiring how Karl is so scared of losing himself, of losing the Karl whom he has so delicately built over the past few years. He clings to the Karl that his Ma and Pa so proudly raised, afraid of having him taken away by the mocking voices in his dreams. Karl dreams of piercing sharp eyes and then he is engulfed whole by darkness. He wakes up with his blanket sticking to his back from cold sweat and his vision blurred.

Karl opens his phone and sees a message from Vlad.

"Good night, Karl. Don't forget we have practice tomorrow at 8! See you and sweet dreams!"

He stares at it for a minute. And then, he starts laughing for so long he does not quite notice the tears rolling down his cheeks and he does not try to stop it. He curls into a fetal position hoping for something to happen, for the terrifying and the inevitable to stop. And Karl keeps it all squeezed between the cracks in the wall, surreptitiously.

He keeps himself anchored in the fringes.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

Except life is a bitch.

Realization is not as groundbreaking and magical as the movies have made it seem to be. They are all tired— skin breaking out, eyes bloodshot, and voices hoarse after long hours of practice.

Vlad asks Karl if he can sleep at Karl's. Karl hesitantly says yes. They're riding the jeepney when Karl looks to his far right and sees Vlad.

Vlad with his dark, curly hair and pouty lips that sends him comforting smiles whenever he fucks up his parts in practice.

Vlad and his warm hugs when Karl cries after practice after some harsh words from Randy that Vlad ends up buying him mango shake from Ate Fely to comfort him.

Vlad and his constellation of acne scars that litter his cheeks. Karl follows the patterns of stress along his jawline and he can see angry shades of red but he still thinks Vlad is breathtaking and so perfectly imperfect.

Karl's heart clenches and just like that, he _falls_.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

Karl was initially shocked when Thea, president of the theater guild, informed him that he will be Vlad's apprentice from now on. Simone, his previous mentor, has decided to quit the org due to personal reasons.

"Don't worry, Vlad's nice. And he's one of our aces here. You'll learn a lot from him," Thea had told him with a pat on the shoulder.

Karl found himself standing behind the door of the stage, listening to a deep and sultry voice which spread like ripples in water. Each note hit Karl's body, the darkness of his tone settling deep in his gut.

Vlad had been seated on the edge of the stage and there was something mesmerizing in the way his brows were furrowed in concentration as he tried to reach notes that Chomskie, one of their castmates, managed so effortlessly. His voice had cracked for the third time and his face was scrunched in disappointment. Vlad looked up and spotted him behind the door, and threw him a small smile. Karl smiled back.

"I'm excited to learn so much from him," he told Thea later.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Dance for me?" Vlad asks him one day.

"Why?"

"I need to practice for my solo. I figured I need to get the feel of the actual performance."

"Are you sure? Your voice is already hoarse, you know," he says.

"Nonsense. I'm starting now." And so Vlad does.

He starts off anxiously, just like how he always does— afraid that his voice might crack or that he might not hit the right notes. Vlad had told him so one day, just after rehearsals.

"I had to work hard to get to where my voice is right now. I can't hit the high notes because, you know, puberty. It was a difficult transition period for me, relearning how to sing and I still get insecure about my skills, sometimes," Vlad said.

Karl remembers being confused, because he does not see anything wrong with the timbre of Vlad's voice. He likes the way Vlad would glide through their songs with a different kind of smoothness and depth that neither Chomskie nor Randy can pull off.

"You're a dancer, so you wouldn't understand," Vlad told him.

"I like your voice anyway." And just like that, a small grin and a blush painted Vlad's face and everything was okay.

Karl loses himself just a little bit more and fleets across the floor, followed by Vlad's mellifluous voice which curls around his body and then slips through his fingers— this, they have always done before as mentors and mentees do; practicing with each other until they are panting from exhaustion. After rehearsals, they would always go straight to the train station and part ways.

This time is different.

They are both waiting for the train when Vlad says something that breaks his heart.

"I like you, Karl," he whispers.

"I like you, too. You've been an amazing mentor to me," Karl says with a small smile. It is practiced and Vlad smiles too then, looks away.

Karl has always found it funny how he tries to answer with his smiles and giggles— always grinning silently in the corner when Chomskie and Joan cause a ruckus in rehearsals. It's how he escapes.

For once, he allows a slip of courage.

"You taught me things I never knew I could be in love with," Karl adds silently.

"I always thought you were after my body," Vlad quips, his eyes way up to the dark sky. Karl only laughs in return. It is hollow.

The train arrives and Karl bumps Vlad's shoulder with his.

"You go ahead. I forgot something in the org room," Karl tells him. Vlad takes him in for a moment, then ruffles his hair, embraces him and plants a small kiss on his cheek.

Lightning-kissed spots are places of worship, honor, and reverence, his Pa had once told him. These are places where the lightning had touched the ground-- point-of-contact which signifies a connection with unfathomable power. Karl feels just like that: electrified and blessed and struck with great love and admiration when Vlad's lips touch his cheeks. It is unadulterated and laced with regret and apology and Karl accepts them all.

Karl walks away, throwing him a smile as he walks away from the train.

There he goes, escaping again.

_(Somehow, this feels like a goodbye.)_

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

It comes as a surprise when Vlad goes missing a few weeks before the showing of their musical. He appears a few days later, looking gaunt and troubled with dark circles under his eyes and stubble growing on his face. Nobody knows why. They continue rehearsals.

"It's nothing," Vlad chokes out in between sobs. They are drunk in Joan's house and Sue is rubbing the elder's back consolingly while Karl half hugs Vlad. It's wonderful what a hug and ten bottles of beers can do to troubled spirits.

"Just lonely—" Vlad starts to say but words die down his throat. Instead, he throws up as Sue holds him up from collapsing into the bowl, whispering comforting words. Karl wakes up with a throbbing head but Vlad seems better.

It's after the success of their first musical together that Vlad tells him the reason-- his father had left them.

"He didn't say anything. Just left us like a thief in the middle of the night."

"I'm sorry," Karl says, barely a whisper.

"Their marriage has always been troubled. They were always fighting, you see. Money, women, their kids. The list goes on."

Karl stays silent. He listens.

"But I couldn't help but think, was it because I'm gay? But he already knew that. Though, I suppose it could be one of his many reasons, you know?"

"I'm sorry, Vlad."

Vlad shrugs. He hums.

People change and life goes on.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Another year and Karl still keeps it to himself._

They barely see each other these days. Vlad is already working as a production assistant after graduating with honors last year. His job keeps him busy but they do meet up when Vlad and the others who have graduated with him get their days off.

By now, Karl has learned how to conceal the beating of his heart by drowning himself in dancing or by looking the other way whenever he stares a little too long at Vlad's lips.

"You can't," he tells himself, almost like a mantra to live by.

So he pretends that he does not see Vlad talk on the phone with a dumbstruck grin on his face. He pretends he doesn't see the blush dusting Vlad's cheeks whenever he receives a text message from someone he calls A. He ignores the sharp pain in his chest whenever he tries to pretend that he is happy for Vlad. He ignores the tears that threaten to fall from his eyes whenever he hears Vlad whisper I-miss-yous to the other man.

There are many things that he pretends he does not know and feel. He does, however, know that he loves his parents and he will do everything to keep his family from falling apart.

A few months later, Karl and another orgmate, Anna, confirm to the rest of their guild that they are together. Anna is perfect; she's beautiful and kind, and they've been friends since they were freshmen.

Friends. That is what Anna tells him when she breaks up with Karl a few months later. They are in the balcony of Anna's apartment and the Manila scenery looks busy from up above. It does not look romantic. It should not be, anyway.

"We're friends," she says. "But I'm not what you want. I'm not who you want."

"I'm sorry," Karl mumbles.

"Don't be." Anna kisses him one last time before breaking into a small smile of pride. "I still love you just the way you are."

Karl sobs into Anna's shoulders the whole night.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

_Five years._

It's Christmas when Vlad comes home from Germany.

It is funny how Karl has recounted the image so many times yet, when Vlad comes out from the gates, Karl almost drops everything and forgets the rest of their friends around them. So, he opts to stay with the others while Vlad half-runs to them with the same old smile and hugs them one by one.

"I missed you," is what Vlad tells him at dinner and Karl smiles.

"How are things here?" Vlad asks.

"Ma died a year ago," he replies. Vlad looks shocked and regretful.

"You never told me that in your letters," Vlad says before Aldous, his _fiancé_ , interrupts him with something else.

Vlad has gotten more mature, Karl notes. His eyes have gotten weary. His previously curly hair is now cropped shorter.

He remembers Vlad's farewell party, the one where it's just the two of them. They went to the pizza place where they frequented after the hours-long practice had worn them down to the bones. They talked about the silliest things, recounted the littlest details like how Randy fucked up the choreography one time and angrily punched a set piece after. How they all decided to do a High School Musical play as a joke and ended up loving it anyway. How Vlad's voice cracked that one time on a musical and ended up on the university page as a meme.

They laughed and laughed until the sky became dark and they found themselves sitting on the field, gazing at the stars above. And then Karl was crying.

"You're leaving." _Stay._

Vlad had wrapped him in an embrace.

"Why are you leaving?"

"I'll write you letters." Vlad leaned over and pressed his nose against Karl's cheek. "And you will write back."

Karl broke into a fitful of sobs and hugged Vlad tighter. Buried beneath the tears and choked sobs were Karl's pleads of 'don't go.' He had gripped Vlad's hands until their knuckles turned white.

The chatter on the dinner table breaks his stupor and Vlad smiles and charms their friends, just like he always does.

Vlad is still handsome with an air of arrogance that suits his strong jaw and bright, hooded eyes. This is still his mentor, the same man that he fell in love with when he was 18.

Time has passed, things have changed.

But Jose Vladimir Austria is still the silver streak amidst his grays and blues.

Everything is right where it belongs.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Two years pass by in the blink of an eye._

What they have is beyond friendship; beyond fraternal love.

Karl is more than happy when he gazes at Vlad beside him, looking divine in a white suit. Karl likes seeing him like this— smile rivaling the blinding church lights. Sunlight flows through the stained-glass windows and the scene is so surreal. Ah, Karl could love him like this forever.

"Thank you," Vlad whispers to him.

"I love you," he whispers back as he wraps his arms around Vlad.

"I love you too, Karl."

Karl smiles bitterly but Vlad does not see him. Instead, he sees Aldous saunter down the aisle. He slips his hand into Vlad's and smiles at Karl.

"Take care of him. He can be quite messy," he quips insipidly and Karl eyes them as they make their way into the altar.

There's no legal binding to this, but it's just as valid. Later this year, they'll fly to the States to get married again. For now, it's a simple garden wedding with their friends and family.

Seeing Vlad get married is not as painful as he imagined it to be. He has learned that love need not be a raging storm of overflowing passion, desire, and lust. It can be something akin to a lovely drizzle on a lazy Sunday morning— comforting and calming with the constant pitter-patter of rain.

Words fly past his ears and all Karl sees is Vlad.

Vlad singing.

Vlad kissing him.

It is not as painful anymore if he sees Vlad happy. Or so he believes. Vlad has already made his choice. Karl made that for him that night.

"I'll be okay," he thinks as he walks away.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Ten years._

Summer is near and their friends decide to meet up except for Simone who is still busy with work. The people who have married brought their respective partners and their children with them— Joan and Sue, Chomskie, Thea, Anna, even Randy. They all look happy with their families huddled together in a cottage.

"They grow up so fast," Joan remarks beside Karl.

"Your comment makes me feel old," Karl says. "Which makes me wonder, when is your anniversary again?"

"Ah, that. Four months from now," Joan replies, smiling widely. "And you? Do you... plan to marry?"

Karl settles his hands on his knees and looks away from Joan.

"Ah, still waiting," Joan says pitifully.

"No, not waiting. I just don't think I will ever..." Karl trails off. Joan's expression morphs into a frown. They say that people like them have only two options: to get married to a girl and build a family or live a quiet life in isolation. Sue and Joan and Chomskie, they're brave. Karl's not so sure. He's still scared.

"Hey," a familiar voice makes itself known from behind the bench.

"Hey. I didn't think you'd show up," Joan says then stands up, offering Vlad a seat.

Vlad plops down next to him on the bench. "Sorry, I had a meeting with the lawyers regarding the divorce."

"Oh, that's today?" Joan asks and Vlad nods in response.

"Well, Sue and Chomskie are calling for me, I think they need another person to make fun of," she adds then runs off to them.

"Where's my son?" Vlad asks Karl.

"Ian's playing with Randy's kids," He answers, pointing to where the others are currently huddled. Ian notices them and waves at his father, chubby arms flailing wildly in the air. Vlad beams at him and waves back.

"Thanks for bringing him here," Vlad mutters. "Ian's been learning how to play computer games, you know? He also started getting voice lessons and he's a natural."

"Even better than you?" Karl asks jokingly. Laughter fills them that soon fades into silence. It is comfortable, one that always envelops them when they are together. They have never been good with words anyway.

"I missed everyone," he comments moments later.

"Vlad, we see each other all the time," Karl jests.

"I know that, idiot," Vlad retorts.

"What I meant was... this." Vlad waves his hands around. "Sue and Joan.. Chomskie's loud antics.. Thea busy running around.. Even Randy--"

"You mean, being young?" Karl quips, and they laugh.

"I missed us, Karl," Vlad adds which stills Karl.

"I don't--"

"It was a long time coming, you know," Vlad starts. "The divorce, I mean."

Karl is silent.

"I loved Aldous. I truly did. But, I'm in love with someone else," Vlad says, looking at him pointedly. "Still in love with him to this very day."

Vlad sighs. He looks up to the open sky and then back at him.

"I love you, Karl. You know that by now, don't you?"

Karl inhales sharply and tries to take in Vlad's appearance. There are evident lines of wrinkles beside his eyes and there are dark circles under them too from the stress of the ongoing divorce (Vlad had called Karl first regarding his decision to break things off). His lips have also gotten less full; this, from aging. They are getting older now, and their appearances have changed with time, but Karl still deems the other man beautiful in his eyes.

Karl could only hum in reply and Vlad chuckles humorlessly.

Karl has always tried to run away from their feelings, constantly pushing and pulling, until he'd snap and break.

Vlad looks down at his own hands before looking back at Karl's face.

"I've waited for you for years," Vlad says.

There is a dull ache in his chest. Karl struggles to breathe, vision blurring. He abruptly stands up.

"I have to go."

Behind him, Vlad curses.

"Karl, stop running away," Vlad pleads.

Karl continues walking.

Just like he did that night many years ago, Karl escapes.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

He looks at where he is and finds his feet dragging him to a familiar street.

There in the small corner was Karl's favorite hiding spot when he was a kid. He used to play with the other kids in the neighborhood a lot. He liked playing hide-and-seek because he was good at it.

He remembers waking up to his Mama's cooking, the smell of his favorite breakfast assaulting his nose in between the state of wakefulness and sleep.

And right across the streetlamp was where he was caught playing with the other girls. He remembered feeling exhilarated as he flew and jumped high in between the garters, his playmates cheering him on as he successfully cleared the highest level. He felt it before he saw his father clamping around his wrist and dragging him inside the house. His Papa made him face the wall and then he felt the hard rattan lashing against his buttocks, his thighs. Once, twice, thrice. He kept silent and held back his tears.

He didn't understand what he did wrong. Not until his mother talked to him that night as she applied salve on his bruises and told him it wasn't proper for a young boy like him to be playing girly games with the girls.

His Papa apologized to him the morning after. But young Karl received the message of the beating anyway.

Karl sighs and starts to walk when a voice breaks his stupor.

"Karl?"

"Pa," he replies. He doesn't move.

"Come in. Why are you here? Your Mama's death anniversary isn't in three days."

Karl walks towards him and presses his forehead on his Pa's hand. He leads Karl into the house.

"Have you had dinner yet? Your Tito Santi dropped by earlier and left a pot of kaldereta," his father tells him, still eyeing him warily. Karl nods. His father sits across him.

Karl looks at his father then around the house. It's gotten older but it still looks the same as it did when he was a kid. His eyes land on the picture of his mother on the table. Karl picks it up.

"Your Ma visited me in my dreams yesterday. Must be reminding me not to forget her anniversary. The nerve of that woman! I may be graying but I would never forget! I already ordered flowers for her even!" his father chuckles then turns quiet.

"Karl, is there a problem?" his father asks.

Karl looks at his father then back at the picture of his beautiful mother on his lap. He shrugs. Caresses the frame and puts it back on the table.

"You know, your Ma told me something when she showed in my dreams. Requested, no, ordered that I don't make things harder for you. Nothing for me though, that woman," he tuts and shakes his head with a smile.

"Told me she wants you to be happy and healthy. Said it's all that matters. Even chided me for always asking for allowance!" They both chuckle at that.

"Son, I want you to be happy. Your Ma and I," his father says. "Are you?"

Karl eyes his father. He lets out a sigh and gathers all the courage in the world he needs to do this.

In retrospect, it had been like balancing a tiny trinket in your hand, deathly afraid of dropping it, failing to see that there is a trove of treasures right in front of you, if only you had the courage to step closer. He notes his father seated across him. He remembers Vlad earlier today and his heart clenches in his ribcage. It scares him but this is important. He thinks-- believes--he deserves this.

Karl is finally ready to let go. He's done being scared. Karl now knows that if he loses his trinket — well, maybe that is not the end of life but the beginning of a new chapter.

"Pa, I'm gay."

His father is quiet.

"I'm gay," he repeats himself.

Karl continues to speak before he loses courage.

"When I was younger, I used to think that I had to choose between being myself and keeping you and Ma happy. I-- I love you, you know that right?" he says and tears make their way down his cheeks. He looks down at his hand clasped on top of his lap. He chokes back a sob.

"I'm sorry for keeping it this long. But this is me, the real me and if you can't accept--"

Karl feels warmth envelop him before it registers that his father is hugging him. Karl gasps and looks up at his father, his beloved father, who bestows him a kiss on his forehead.

"Are you happy, Karl?" he asks.

Karl nods and breaks down in his father's arms. He feels like a kid as his father consoles him, can only cling tighter to the older guy as his father apologizes to him.

"I'm sorry for making you feel like you couldn't be yourself. Forgive me, son. I'm sorry."

They stay like that for what feels like hours before his father breaks the moment.

"You rascal. Look at yourself! You're getting older!" his father says while wiping the tears from his son's eyes.

"Go find your happiness," he adds. Karl nods eagerly.

He will.

For now, there's one more thing to do.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

The moon hangs unfettered by clouds.

Karl rings the doorbell and breaks the silence of the night.

Is it still nighttime? Karl's not so sure. He went here in a hurry. He doesn't really know what he's doing here-- no! He does. He now knows what he wants this time. He paces back and forth before ringing the doorbell one more time. Are they asleep now? He considers going back home. Maybe some other time? No, he might lose the courage. _Fuck_.

"Karl?"

There's shuffling from behind the door before it spits out Vlad in his pajamas. Fuck. _Oh, fuck._

"Why are you here?" he says a hint of surprise in his hoarse voice.

"To see you," he replies. His heart is threatening to burst out of his chest.

"To see me," Vlad echoes. "Why, Karl?" His voice is shaky as he steps forward.

"To say sorry," he says. "For hurting you. And to tell you that I'm tired of running away. I'm sorry it took me so long to... to be here but now I am and I hope you'd still want me." He's shaking and suddenly, tears are spilling from his eyes.

"If you tell me to go screw myself, I will. But if you still want me, still.. Still love me," Karl says, breathless. His eyes feel the burn of tears. He's here because he's selfish and he's sorry and god, just fuck it all. He loves Vlad. He fucking loves this man so much it hurts.

He drags the back of his hand and wipes away the tears on his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Vlad. Fuck, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for everything--" his voice breaks.

"Karl," Vlad's voice draws shivers over him. And then, Vlad opens his arms with a smile on his face. And with it, forgiveness and acceptance.

Karl runs to him and for a moment, time seems to slow down as Vlad reaches out to him and pulls him towards him. Vlad cups his cheek and Karl closes his eyes before he feels Vlad press a kiss on his lips. Vlad coaxes his mouth open, nips at his lower lip. This tastes like love and safety and reassurance and adoration. It's overwhelming. But Karl takes it all, allows himself to press his body against his, allows himself to kiss him back, buries his fingers into Vlad's hair.

_(A kiss that returns a love that's been waiting for a lifetime.)_

Later, when they're both seated on the couch, with Karl's head against the shoulder of Vlad, Karl speaks up.

"I told Papa."

Vlad leans away from him and studies Karl's face, his own painted with worry.

"How did he take it? How do you feel about it, Karl?"

"He hugged me. And apologized."

Vlad relaxes. Karl rests his head on his shoulder once more. He stifles a yawn.

"You know, when Papa apologized, I felt relieved. Sobbed like a baby. Can you imagine, at my age?" Karl chuckles. "All those years, I thought, 'was it all just in my head?' you know? Whenever he would scold me for being too soft. For telling me how a 'real man' should walk. Should talk. Should act. I resented him a lot for it, that's true. But I also love him."

Vlad squeezes his shoulder. He kisses the top of his head.

"I thought for sure that I was willing to take this secret with me to the grave. I owe my life to my father. I wanted to be the son he wanted me to be. And then I met you. And suddenly, I wasn't so sure anymore. But still, I held myself back."

"What changed?"

Karl looks up, eyes earnest and warm. He grasps for Vlad's hand. He kisses it.

"I'm ready now." Karl tightens his hold on the other's hand.

"For the longest time I kept telling myself, 'what's the point?' because I'd been living a quiet and peaceful life all this time, right? But, earlier you asked me to stop running away and I never realized how exhausting it was to keep the facade up for years and years. I did it for us." Karl pauses. "No, I did it for myself. I just want to be truly happy. Not just quiet and peaceful. I want happiness for myself. And I know I deserve it."

Vlad beams at him, gives him a peck. Then, plants a kiss on his forehead.

"Took your time, huh?" Vlad quips.

"I did. I'm sorry, Vlad." Karl smiles sadly.

"Hey, it wasn't your fault," Vlad clasps their hands tighter. "But I'm sorry for not waiting."

"But you did. You're here with me now, aren't you?"

Vlad leans forward and Karl meets him halfway with a kiss. They've waited far too long to be able to be with each other like this. They part with a smile.

"When did you start loving me?" Karl asks.

"Fishing?" Vlad says. "Can't really remember. Forgive me though. It's been a long time."

"Must be the old age," Karl jests. "I liked you ever since I saw you."

"Ah, must be my good looks. I was devilishly handsome back then, admit it."

"You were. You still are."

Vlad blushes. It looks silly that a grown man is blushing like a schoolboy. Karl finds it cute nonetheless. A beat passes then, Vlad turns pensive for a while.

"Karl," he says after a moment of silence. "I want us to be on the same page. I have a kid. I'm going through a divorce. So, I want to ask you: what do you want from us? Where do we go from here?"

Silence. And then Karl speaks.

"I want us to be together. I know, I'm still... I'm terrified and I'm gonna be selfish just a bit more and ask for your patience with me. Is that okay with you?"

Vlad nods. He reaches out to hold his hand with a smile.

"I've spent practically my whole life hiding. I'm done doing that. I'm still scared but I'm ready to be brave. For myself. For us."

Karl leans against him

It won't be easy, Karl knows. He would have so many things to learn still. But he's greedy to make up for all their lost moments. To reclaim all their what-ifs. For now, he's happy that they're in each other's arms.

Outside, the sky begins to paint itself in different hues of warmth. Karl feels safe and comfortable and free and loved. His eyes pull him to sleep. And this time, he knows that when he wakes up, it's only to a new beginning with the man he loves.

_(I love you now and I will love you ten, twenty years after.)_

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, please do leave a kudos and/or a comment!
> 
> You can follow me on Twitter @pangcakehouse
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
